


twilight

by orphan_account



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (i dont write cute things??? and yet??? here i AM??), (what happened to me), I THINK THIS IS FLUFF BUT LIKE hurt/comfort fluff if that exists, Kisses, M/M, listen lmao idk wtf this is dont ask me, okay no but this is definitely fluff yall, or not so much talk, some immo talk, some tears, they watch a movie or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7090468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood has heard of Claude Debussy before. Unlike Magnus Bane, he's never heard of twilight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	twilight

**Author's Note:**

> listen, this is my fist shadowhunter thing ever okay. this is my first malec thing ever. i guarantee for NOTHING.
> 
> ___

I.

The notes were filtering through the air like after-storm rain drops trickling down the gutter, distant, and soft as fingers on piano keys tend to be. 

It was strange, hearing music from so far away still, yet knowing beyond doubt it originated from the player sitting atop a shelf in his apartment, surrounded by a generous collection of CDs from another century.  
Magnus quickened his step, long strides past broken down facades and boarded store fronts and dim lamp posts throwing more shade than light. He could, of course - but no. No portals so close to the lair. He had been sorry too many times to risk safe now, as the saying went; _especially_ now, especially with so much more to be sorry about. So much more that needed to be kept safe.

Magnus ducked around a corner, flicked the end of his woolen fine-fabriced shawl back over his shoulder, and there it was again, snatched up bits and pieces.  
Faint...beautifully mellow in both cadence and volume. No human ear would ever be able to pick the music up from so far away; no angel's ear either, but Magnus shared more features than just his natural eyes with felines - and increased ability to simply _hear_ better than most was also part of that similarity.

The night air was clean and crisp as a blade. His lungs grew with the autumnesque chill of it, a promise of winter in the whisper that was his exhaled puff of breath.

Up one last staircase and he faced the wall of wards he had put up to mask the entrance to the loft invisible, an unsurpassable blockade.  
Without stopping, Magnus stepped through it, the familiar tingle of his own magic welcoming him home. The notes went pitter-patter, much clearer now, and finally, Magnus recognized the piece playing from inside the loft. A memory settled, unasked, before his eyes; one he wasn't prepared for, like a stealthy knife in the night - nostalgic, bittersweet:

A booth in an exquisite bar, his bow tie strewn across the table, air and lungs thick and sweet with smoke. He had preferred whiskey even then, the liquid golden in the subtle light of oil lamps and candles. The laughter of a young woman, an illicit whisper in his ear, lashes brushing his cheek, his hand sliding up an exposed calf in simple admiration; Claude at the piano, a romantic as the world had ever seen, worse by far than Magnus himself.  
Paris had been quite a lovely thing, back in the day. 

His chest tightened with a sudden water, like a sob too soaked to be cried, as Magnus put a hand to the heavy wood of the front door and, pulling himself together, let energy pulse into it, checking for disturbances. One, in the few hours since he had left. Magnus didn't have to guess.

He smiled then, heart-string tender, unguarded in soon-vanquished privacy, letting the adoration bubble up and feast away at the sadness the soft piano had conjured up so effortlessly.  
It was a good, satiated feeling, not having to wonder.

Suddenly hasty, Magnus stepped inside the loft and sure enough, thick-soled black boots - toed off quite carelessly, considering - sat a few paces from the door and next to them, infinitely more valuable and yet just as much part of him: a bow, elegant in its simple design, and a quiver of crimson-feathered arrows; materialized now that they weren't worn, leaning against the entrance hall’s wall.  
_I really ought to buy a stand for these_ , Magnus thought, with gentle fondness, and bit back the laugh as he remembered that one time. 

_Think of me when you shoot your arrows._

Silly, but effective, as Magnus had been informed. Brightness caught the edge of Magnus' heart and burned away quietly, as he peeled off his coat and hung it, with meticulous care, next to his favorite day time blazer and a strap-clad leather jacket, supple and worn well.  
The track changed, flowing like a river, and Magnus hummed in approval, now slippered feet soundless on his floors.

It has been weeks, months now, but seeing Alexander for the first time on every new day might be a feeling even Magnus would never grow accustomed to.  
Endless legs stretched out comfortably, Alec had pulled himself long on the couch, in a half-sitting position, shoulder blades pressed into the cushioned arm rest. One of his socks had a small hole in it, the exposed skin of the ball of his foot stark white in contrast to the black.  
A book sat between his hands, and Alec’s brows were knit together in concentration, the tip of his tongue just barely poking out between a set of full lips.  
A forgotten mug of something once hot sat on the table next to the couch. Magnus leaned against a wall, and let the fond warmth push into his limbs by heart beat alone. How right it looked. Like this, Alec seemed to belong right there, cozied into the nook of the leather, as comfortable as one would be in one’s home. 

Clair de Lune embraced Magnus familiar like a sunset, beheld a thousandfold and yet spectacularly romantic anew. He pushed himself off towards the couch.

"I thought I was the one with the vampire friends. Or does Samuel count for you?"

Alec startled, clearly having been immersed into his reading (What _was_ he reading, that made him block out possible danger like that? Or maybe he just felt- ah. Maybe he trusted Magnus' wards. Something about that deepened the color burning in Magnus' heart to velvety, an almost embarrassed shade of red. God, how he _loved_ -), and, upon seeing Magnus walk into the living room slowly, smiled.  
It was a smile that deserved to be called what Alec was: angelic. In its severe earnesty it knocked the air right out of Magnus, coaxed a silent gasp from him and made his steps stumble to a halt, too awkward to seem intentional. Not noticing, Alec had straightened already, putting his book down hurriedly, picking himself up to meet Magnus halfway. 

"Hey, baby. Hey…," and Alec stopped, in curious proximity, to clasp at the hands hanging uselessly by Magnus' side and smile, less broadly now but light-warm still, down at Magnus.

"Team Edward, I suppose?" At that, Alec's nose crunched up in confusion for a moment, eyes narrowing. 

"Who's Edward?"

Oh. _Oh_.  

"Don't tell me you've never heard of twilight, darling."

Alec’s gaze searched his, unconsciously or not dropping to his mouth consistently, every few blinks.

"Am I right in the assumption you don't mean a time of day?"

"Very right. It's a...a book series, a movie, I just assumed, the music-"

There, Alec’s eyes went wide with realization. Something subtle changed in the way he held Magnus' hands. His thumbs stilled for a regrettable moment before picking up their circular movement against the back of Magnus' palms once more.

"Oh! Sorry about that, I... I didn't like the silence, so I picked some music to play."  

He looked almost guilty. Magnus felt his heart bleed sweetly. "I hope that's okay."

"Of course, darling, don't be sorry. You like...classical?"

"What? Oh, yes. It's...productive. Good for paper work..." Alec's eyes left Magnus, traveled the lines of his face.

"But Debussy...he's softer. It- ah. Suite bergamasque is very- it's nice."

They were still standing too close together and despite Alec’s continuous struggle for words, Magnus had a feeling like he knew what Alec meant.  
It fit the mood. Easy to blend into, hardly disturbing. Oh, so romantic. Magnus tilted his chin up, a fraction only, but Alec caught on his lips and he leaned in, without haste.

Finally kissing, Magnus realized there was an anticipation Alec was letting go of now, like an itch he finally got to scratch after having had to sit still for far too long; realized Alec had been waiting for this all through the talking, ever since Magnus had walked in. Their bodies lined up, naturally, like breathing.  
With a smile, Magnus pulled away from letting himself go too far, and met eyes with Alec.

"Have you been waiting for long?"

"Not very. An hour or so, maybe. I made-" Alec turned his head towards the table by the couch with the flick of remembrance and groaned, clearly disappointed in himself for forgetting. "I made tea." 

Amused, Magnus smoothed his hands over Alec’s chest, and chastely kissed the corner of his mouth. "Are you up for a fresh pot?"

The relief in Alec was palpable, an exhale, a smile, easy as counting.  
It was...intimate, like this, knowing how carefully Alec usually, to anyone but family, locked away his emotions and every sign of them that wasn't mockery or scoffing; how openly he showed them here, now, to Magnus. Without regret, or fear. Consciously unguarded.  
Magnus' throat laced shut, and he battled it down, the mix of furious pride and joy and adoration. Alec's voice, against the piano heavenly in the background, sounded like song. 

"Yes, please. I never seem to get the amount of leaves right."

"It's all a matter of experience," Magnus said, reaching back to remove Alec’s hands from his ass and grab them to pull him along. 

"Let's go then, Mister 'I listen to Debussy for fun and not because I'm in love with a vampire.'"

Before Magnus could move past Alec more than two steps, though, he was pulled back and twirled around by his wrist, his mouth - as if made for it - landing right on Alec's with a surprised little sound.  
Alec, Magnus had found out from the very beginning, usually kissed like he meant it.  
Magnus, Magnus had found out from the very beginning, got incredibly, uselessly lost in the way Alec’s lips captured his more often than just _usually_.

After several long moments of entirely too innocent kisses of the kind that made Magnus' knees grow weak with the sensation of them being fully intent on enjoying just that and nothing but it: simply kissing - Alec pulled back, pink-cheeked, breathless, lovely. 

"While we're at it, please explain what all this vampire nonsense is about. You do realize, the only one I'm in love with is you?"

 

II. 

Sighing, Alec let his head fall back, hands running through his hair to rinse out the soap.  
The water was more than warm, steaming away from his skin, an indulgence he allowed himself - a huddled-up dream. Usually showers were quick, cold, and functional - but not here.  
Not in Magnus' bathroom, not in Magnus' shower, not with Magnus' enormous shower head that provided fifteen different settings for muscle relaxation, and the array of enticingly scented gels and tonics, lined up in a pretty color coded row on a shelf along the single tiled wall. Not with the hazy rose glow that was the overhead lights, not with the promise of softest fluffy towels and an embrace on the other side of the waterfall.

As if called in by Alec’s wandering thoughts, the door opened quietly and Magnus' voice perturbed the shower’s sounds. Or rather, played along with them, as Magnus' voice, somehow, was never out of place. It sounded always just right.

"Darling, I'm set! I'll go ahead and pick one, then, yes?"

Alec contemplated for a fraction of a second and then grinned, before wiping two strategically placed strips of evaporation away from the shower wall in front of him to be able to see Magnus, who was barely looking in - one for his face, and the other-

"You could join me, you know." Alec dropped a hand visibly, to make his intention clear.

He could see Magnus give it a pretended thought, catch his breath extravagantly at the scandalous sight and bite his lip full of seductive purpose, just to cover up the short sweet moment where he really _did_ think about it (something in Alec grew terribly warm with the knowledge of being able to _tell_ ), and finally, Magnus made a noise. It sounded like tongue clicking but Alec could not really say for sure from the distance. 

"Oh, but you're almost done, Alexander. Where would be the fun in _that_." With a suggestive smile that would have undressed Alec if he were not already naked, Magnus pulled the door shut and Alec had to hurry to throw a "I'll be right out." in his wake to make sure he'd hear.

Technically, Magnus was right, of course. Alec shook his head under the jet of water one last time before shutting it off and climbing out onto the warm rust-tiled floor the water evaporated off of in a moist mist. Alec guessed Magnus had adopted this style of bathroom from somewhere not _American_ \- it was hard to tell from where exactly, though, since with Magnus, it could be anywhere. Or a mix of all. Two towels and some pragmatic and rushed-through pampering later Alec pushed himself into the bedroom in search for - ah. 

He let the towel around his hips drop into a laundry basket and - not bothering with underwear - slipped into a luxuriously thick dark pair of sweats. It wasn't one of his own, or it _was_ , but these...Magnus had gotten them for him, paying, without a doubt, a ridiculous amount of money in some small, unbearably expensive boutique that provided an unpronounceable name on the possibly slightly less scratchy tag.

_Quality has no price tag, Alexander._

The broad ruffled waist band sat snug against his lower abdomen, right above his hip bones. Magnus was - well, Magnus. He knew what he was doing, even if Alec sometimes liked to argue this point - purely, if he was honest, for principle’s sake.

Omitting a shirt, Alec trotted on to the living room on bare foot, using the towel left around his neck to clean dampness from his ears. Magnus was already lounging on the couch, head bowed as if immersed in a reading. He was dressed in sheer flowing silks as per usual, a style of home wear that was designed, it seemed, specifically to ruin Alec. (Not that he minded, really. Not as long as Magnus didn’t mind having to stitch together ripped shirts by magic.)

The TV was on, a massive black front waiting for command. A sweet smell of caramel that Alec couldn't immediately locate the origin of, filled the air. Maybe a scented candle in the next room. 

Walking over, Alec pushed his hands into the head rest behind Magnus, and pressed his mouth into the soft, barely styled hair. The strand tips were the color of burnished gold, complimenting Magnus' dark skin in wondrous ways; Alec let his nose fall against the exposed smooth plane in the nape of Magnus' neck, before pressing another kiss there, too.  
Magnus' skin was warm, warmer than the shower, more substantial and real; his hair smelled of something, Alec couldn't tell what, but it was good, so good - he knew he was smiling even before Magnus' head tipped all the way back to let him see a mirrored upside down version of it.

"And what are you up to, hm?" 

Magnus' smile broadened and he stretched a little to press a kiss to Alec’s chin. Water trickled down Alec’s consistently dripping hair and on along the line of Magnus' exposed throat. The position he was in looked ridiculous, and a little uncomfortable. Alec’s hands itched with need, an expression of the simple desire to embrace and hold close that he had learned to recognize by now. Magnus, apparently, did that to him. Alec Lightwood, hugger extraordinaire. He almost laughed at that.

"Just reading up on the movie-" Magnus lifted the blue DVD cover - blu-ray, Alec reminded himself - and then, he groaned, for back at him looked a couple, young, and pale, and mundane-looking. The title said "twilight".

"No way, Magnus."

"Aw, come on, darling. You let me pick in the first place." 

"But isn't this the one about-"

"Yes, yes, the tragic love story of a vampire and a human girl...it's all for that one scene, Alexander. I want you to understand. And you ought to learn _some_  of mundane culture, really. Plus-," Magnus added, now halfway turned to face Alec and already aware that he had Alec sold - he always did - "imagine all the ways you could use this against Stanley. I had material for weeks after I made Raphael watch all of them with me for the first time."

Sighing, Alec rolled his eyes for good measure (couldn't seem too easy now, could he), rounded the couch and playfully nudged Magnus with his knee to make him move a little so that Alec could sit in the corner.  
There was, of course, no way he would deny Magnus the pleasure of something as simple as this. And what might be the worst thing to happen? Falling asleep halfway through the movie with Magnus snuggled up beside him? Surely, there were less pleasant ways to spend a Saturday night.

"There are _more_ of these?"

Magnus giggled, edge-less, breathless, Alec’s wrecking in the making. "Oh, yes. Many. Five in total."

Alec, eyes falling onto the bowl of popcorn sitting at the other end of the couch and brain finally making sense of the delicious smell impregnating the air, settled deep into his favorite part of the sofa, folded an arm around Magnus' waist and pulled him in.

"How crazy are mundane teenage girls really? Don't hold back."

The laughter at that broke out of Magnus easy, like popping a balloon overfilled with joy. Alec considered, sometimes, what the thing people most likely remembered about Magnus was. His elegant air of danger, his incredible sense of fashion, the way he moved maybe, graceful, gorgeous.  
To Alec, and he knew how grateful he should be - and was - for knowing of it, it would be this: the sound of Magnus' laughter, the simple, real, genuine amusement in it, whole-lunged, sounding a little like a broken record, or a squirrel. Beautiful. Pure. Magnus' nose crunched up with it and Alec, heart heavy, brushed a lock of hair behind Magnus' ear with a fond smile.  

"They are," Magnus confirmed, snapping his fingers once to dim the lights and make the towel around Alec’s neck disappear, "quite something." Alec's hair turned a quick-dried fluffy mess.

Another snap and the dark room grew a little cool with the colors of the movie. A song Alec seemed to recognize, maybe, rolled in. Magnus pushed a last kiss to his chin with a half turn, before settling down proper in his arms. 

"Just tell me if you hate it, we will find something less intolerable."  

Alec hummed in soft agreement, chin atop of Magnus' head. Who cared about the stupid movie, when he had this.

*

"But how can they go to school if they are vampires? Isn't school a daytime thing? Why doesn't the sun turn them to ashes?"

"I told you, darling. These movie vampires aren’t like real ones. As long as the sun is hidden behind clouds, it doesn’t do anything to them. That’s why Washington. That’s why that gruesome shadow of a city. It’s all on purpose." 

Alec shook his head, disbelieving. He could tell himself how troubled his voice sounded, absurdly so. 

"This makes no sense at all. In every story I've ever read, the sun is a vampire’s enemy. Does it just…not hurt them at all?"

Magnus chuckled, the vibrations of it pressing into Alec’s side where Magnus was tucked away, silk shirt a gentle caress against Alec’s exposed skin.

"Oh, it does something. But I don’t want to ruin the surprise for you, just keep watching."

There it was. Mundane high school setting. Cafeteria scene. A group of teenagers laughing awkwardly. It looked so... _prosaic_. Was that all they did, those kids? Rant about classes and plan trips to the beach and fall in love with the moderately attractive new girl?

"This- I’m never letting you pick a movie again. How did you sit through this the first time? It is just so… _bland_."

Magnus chuckled again, and Alec’s grip on his hip tightened. If his insensitive commentary would make Magnus laugh, this was a hell worth sitting through. 

A perfectly manicured hand appeared in front of his face, holding some caramel popcorn to snack on. 

"Morbid curiosity. Open your mouth." 

Alec already had. As if an explicit invitation for Magnus' fingers was _ever_ needed.

*

Standing atop a hillside, the movie vampire - finally Alec knew who the hell Edward was - revealed a disappointingly flat chest, his white skin glimmering gently in the feeble sunlight. Movie mundane girl looked blissed out at the sight. Alec’s brain was partially rotting.

"He _what_?"

"She likes it, see. He’s all…glittery. Not necessarily diamond-pretty - but pretty." 

Alec looked at Magnus for a moment, eyes wide in surprised horror. This was almost an insult, really. Alec felt personally offended. 

"Magnus. He’s a vampire. He _sparkles_. In the _sun_."

"I know," Magnus helplessly provided in between mouthfuls of popcorn. "Glorious, isn’t it? So…wrong. Raphael would have kicked my screen in if I hadn't had him tied to the arm chair with real rope. He kept calling it 'disgrace'."

Edward looked pained and pale and terribly unhealthy. _Maybe that vegetarian diet isn't for him after all_ , Alec thought.

"And that's all?" 

Magnus looked up at him, a measured glance, and Alec’s breath was suddenly lost somewhere in his chest, not even trying to find a way out. He was just so _beautiful_ -

"How do you mean?“  

"I mean- that’s all it does to him? Where’s his disadvantage in battle? How is that an honest fight? Vampires are creatures of the night, like this they could just go out in broad daylight and-"

Magnus gaze softened and Alec wondered what he had said this time. There was always _something_.

"Alexander."

Pouting, Alec pursed his lips.

"What?"

"Darling, you think too much. It’s just a movie." 

"Yeah. A factually _wrong_ movie. This is aggravating." 

Wordlessly, Magnus offered some popcorn. Alec stuffed his face.

*

With a gentle turn, Magnus adjusted his position, so as to not strain his neck. His head lay in Alec’s lap, supported by his thigh. Alec’s hand stilled for a moment, making sure Magnus was all settled, before he picked up the hair-stroking anew. If asked who enjoyed the caressing more - him or Magnus - Alec wouldn't have known the answer.

Vampire and mundane girl climbed the stairs in vampire’s home - a joke about immortality was made, something about too many high school degrees. Vampire didn't even look like a high schooler. Alec shifted a little. 

Magnus' voice, when it came aloud, was a soft sound, as if part of the movie.

"Ah, here we go. This is the scene I wanted to show you. Pay attention."

Their hands grabbed for a snack from the bowl sitting in Magnus' lap simultaneously, and, upon knocking together, froze. Without thinking, Alec cupped Magnus' popcorn-full hand in his and brought it up to his own mouth, letting the few crunchy bits fall in. After a few seconds of thoughtless chewing, Alec brushed his lips against the back of Magnus' hand, kissing his knuckles with care and stickiness. There was a moment, a little rift, as Alec’s lips rested against Magnus' skin, when both their focus' shifted, almost, away from the movie, away from the world; but Alec let go of Magnus' hand in time. Not now.

"I am."

Truthfully - and adding to Alec’s confusion considering his feelings towards it - once he accepted the ridiculousness of these fake vampires and their fake beauty, the movie wasn't too bad at all. Humorous in its foolishness, mostly. A comedy.

The mundane girl - 'Bella', his brain provided helpfully and with a grateful little side of 'Thank God you call your sister Izzy' - was looking around Edward’s room like one would the first time around. Trying to notice things. Considering what to point out. Apparently not having to hide from the sun also meant not having to sleep. Alec sighed quietly at the inaccuracy but kept his mouth shut. 

Walking over to the music station, Bella pressed play. Soft and dreamy, the first notes of Clair de Lune drifted through the air. Edward looked troubled for a moment, the name - "Debussy" - sounding wrong from his mouth and then, Bella calmed him - unintentionally it seemed. Of course she knew of Clair de Lune. Great, she called it. Things clicked in Alec's head.

"Oh." 

"See, this is why I thought you knew of Debussy from this. It’s quite…common among young people nowadays, the association."

"But I never-" 

Magnus turned his head to be able to look him in the eye. His gaze seemed a little pained, as if he had disappointed himself. It made Alec want to kiss him until all the misery had disappeared.

"I know. I should have known better, than to assume you had ever- I'm sorry." Magnus eyes narrowed, as if remembering something and then he added, quietly, as if to himself: "You really never cease to surprise me, Alec."

*

Through Magnus' high quality speakers, the thunder was thrumming as if New York itself had been hit by a storm. A bunch of pale vampires dressed in baseball gear were making their way across an enormous field. Even Alec, with his limited knowledge of mundane music, recognized Supermassive Black Hole.

"Now _this_ scene, I like."

Magnus, curled up in his lap, giggled softly.

"I'm not surprised. You’d excel at this game, darling." 

The baseball bat hit, making the ball fly and fly and fly. Edward and dark-haired bulky guy crashed together like boulders in the sky. Alec grinned.

"We should totally try that sometime, actually. That brute reminds me of Jace, anyway. Clary needs some kind of physical training, and I personally know Izzy would love to kick Jace's ass in a game like this. We could ask Simon even, see how _real_ vampires would deal. Maybe Luke and some wolves from the pack would want to come."

Magnus nodded against Alec's thigh and, after a moment of silence, turned all the way around to face Alec, smiling slyly.

"So you see yourself in Edward, huh."

Suddenly, it was very hard to focus, no matter how fun the scene seemed. Alec’s hand, having rested on the curve of Magnus' hip before, came up quite unconsciously to pull a gentle thumb across Magnus' cheek. 

"What? No, I didn’t say that-"

"Quite clearly, he’d be you, in this scenario. Look at him-," and Magnus turned back to the screen, away from Alec. "The prettiest of the bunch, the most clever one, the best at what he does, always try-"

There was nothing more to say as Alec turned Magnus' face back just enough to lean down and press their lips together. It was weird to kiss like that, sideways; things seemed lopsided and Magnus' tongue was a wholly new feeling in Alec’s mouth - as if for a first time, sweet and caramel-flavored. When they finally parted, a triplet of new, red-eyed vampires had appeared on the screen. Everyone looked distressed. Alec didn't find it in himself to care.

*

The last half hour passed in action-filled scenes Alec found mildly amusing for their utter lack of closeness to any reality. 

By now, broken Bella was back on her feet, or almost: Carefully, Edward led her into a pavilion, left to themselves, to dance. Prom, this was called. _How ridiculous_ , Alec thought, until Edward lifted Bella off her feet and onto his own to circle her around painlessly. Quite right. She couldn’t dance. The scene shifted to an intimate talk between them, then, a topic Alec had not anticipated to be brought up again. Their words sat like stones in his chest. The hand he had thrown back onto the head rest clenched into a white-knuckled fist. Carefully, Alec shut it all down.

_Why did you save me?_

_I want you. Always._

_I'm dying already. Every second.  
   - That's the way it's supposed to be._

_I dream about being with you...forever._

As Edward kissed Bella, in the final moments, Alec shuddered, obvious reasons forgotten. A century he was old, this fake vampire from some clichéd movie and the pain in his features, no matter how downplayed, was so excruciatingly obvious - the reason for it, so clear to him - it made Alec’s chest go tight enough to cut off air. Slowly, he looked down at Magnus, to find Magnus, eyes dark as night, already looking up at him. Alec’s throat felt sore, raw as flesh scrubbed down by sand paper.  

"He loves her already, doesn’t he?"

With a certainty that had nothing to do with the movie, Magnus answered.

"More than his own life."

The credits began to roll in. Into the silence between them Magnus sat up and Alec, unsure of how to make things right, how to resolve the heaviness, brushed some bangs back from Magnus' face, hidden in the shadows of the room.

As evenly as possible, Alec asked, "Are you comparing me to a seventeen year old mundane girl?"

Harsh, Magnus exhaled a laugh that sounded a little dry. His beautiful face was so close to Alec’s and yet, Alec could read nothing of it.

"I’m not comparing you to anyone, Alexander. Ever." 

Their noses brushed as Alec, gentle hand still on Magnus' cheek, pulled him in. There were a few tense moments caught between them, moments in which, foreheads pressed together, neither dared move.  
In a smudgy push forward, Alec broke the fear. Their lips came together as naturally as always, a little more intensely, maybe, a little more desperate, a little more damp. 

Without breaking the kiss, Magnus climbed into his lap, hands sliding into Alec’s hair, and Alec didn't know what to do other than kiss back, as fervently as he could, and wipe away the wetness from Magnus' cheeks.  

_Is it not enough? Just to have a long and happy life with me?  
   - Yeah. For now._  

 

III.

The lid of the chili powder box popped open obediently and Magnus was about to pepper a healthy amount into the pan, but stopped on the verge of doing so, considering the reddish dust critically.  
With careful precision he sat the box down, and retrieved from a drawer a stainless steel set of teaspoon measures, little spoon grabbing into littler spoon still, like a strangely sterile matryoshka figure. He selected the one for half a teaspoon, filling it with red powder, and dropped the contents over the stir fry.  
Almost immediately, the seasoning turned fragrant with the heat of the pan.

Turning back to the chopping board, Magnus finished hacking up the parsley and threw the handful of herbs in to join the other ingredients, the vibrant green in beautiful contrast with the reds and yellows of bell peppers and turmeric-colored rice.

Pushing the pan from the flame, Magnus grabbed for a spatula, folding it all over once more and tasting the final product. The heat was there, but it was deliberate. Personally, he loved spicy food, was probably born for and with it, but Alec-  
He did not dislike it, he just didn't like too much of it.  
One of the few things they didn't see eye to eye on. Not that Magnus wasn't flexible. In any which way.

The sky was dark outside, and at its foot, visible through the ceiling-high windows, gorgeously lit, New York City.

Magnus sighed in content as he grabbed two bowls, a few filled platters and a big bottle of sriracha hot sauce to plate on the small, extendable, elongated table protruding into the middle of the room.

He was just decanting wine, when the music turned up in the speaker he had installed specifically for the kitchen; Magnus nearly spilled his Chardonnay in surprise at the sudden noise. Luckily, nearly meant not and the comfortably soft plinking of notes settled him. Of course this. It had been weeks and yet-

Magnus smiled and waited, patiently busy with the wine, until Alec trotted in, shyly, almost, as if unsure how Magnus would react.

Sometimes Magnus wanted to bring it up, explain - the emotions, the tears, the gratefulness. Sometimes he was sure Alec already knew, as the way his hands had held Magnus that night had been so well placed it could not have been random.  
Apparently "grossly sobbing"-Magnus was just as attractive to Alec as "burning up with lust"-Magnus; or that was what he had gathered from all the pretty words he hadn't even known Alec had been ready to say yet.  
They had been fucking, mind, and Alec usually lost his filter then, but not like that.  
Not with such fervor. Not such devotion. Never such- 

_However long it will be, nothing will compare to what we have, my love._  

"I see you found your favorite CD again, Alexander?"  

Magnus knew Alec would be listening to the tone of his voice to figure out if it was too much. He didn't have to keep it natural. There was no need to keep anything natural.  

"I-," and Alec fell silent again, uncharacteristically so. When Magnus turned around to face him, Alec was a little pale.  
His knuckles, jammed around the back rest of the high chair he would soon be sitting in, were white as bone. 

Gently, Magnus placed the decanter on the table between them, and turned it until the round belly sat in perfect alignment with the rest of the plates and goblets. Something was clearly going through Alec’s mind. Sooner rather than later, he would talk about it. When he was ready. Smiling, Magnus flicked his fingers at a non-existent speck of dust.

The music was wonderful. When Claude was still alive, Magnus remembered, he had been praised as the new Chopin. Especially his later works, composed mere years prior to his death, were so unusual in their style, it was hard not to think back to Frédéric (who had been - Magnus had to be honest - not nearly as fun a time as Claude).  
_French_ , the high dames had called it, with a certain condescending air to their interpretations - almost, as if something _French_ was too French for them; as if the _French_ in it made the pieces less worthy of their elegant and empty time.  
Dreamy. Poetic. Fantasy upon brilliant, romantic fantasy. Memories glinted in the back of Magnus' mind, some of them so washed out he barely knew if they were from the right years at all; everything prior to World War I was a bit of a haze by now.

Into the mellow piano, Magnus was thankful for adopting notebooks early on. He had some confidence, but keeping centuries of history and, more importantly, memory, in his mind was something even he could not do. Maybe later he would flip through those devoted to the early 20th century. It was only a matter of finding the right ones.

With a graceful step, Magnus rounded the table corner, fingertips sliding along the shiny top of it, until he stood right in front of Alec - all square shoulders brooding, watching Magnus as if he was a piece of museum exhibit. That was to say, as if he was art. Confusing, and beautiful, and making Alec’s face pinch with the difficulty of figuring out what to do, whatever it was he intended to do. When Magnus spoke, Alec’s eyes dropped from him.

"I am not mad, darling. Debussy is wonderful dinner music, don't you think?"

Alec looked up from his hands still clutching the chair for support, then, a certain quality to his gaze that made Magnus think maybe he had been wrong all along. Maybe it wasn't about that at all. For a few heart beats they stared into each other’s eyes as Alec seemed to make a decision, visible, if one tried to see.

They were standing close and so, gently, Alec’s hands reached out and grabbed Magnus', one in each, as if for a- 

_Oh._  

"May I-?“ Alec's voice was thick with embarrassment, but resolute. No backing down. This way, he usually sounded when asking for something he wanted dearly, but was too shy to do so with a straight face. 

Corners of his mouth lifting, Magnus whispered, "I can't dance."

Just then, Clair de Lune began dripping it's notes into the room, like droplets of a fine warm summer rain on long too dry pavement. 

Alec’s smile broke Magnus' heart.

"Well," Alec mused, suddenly free now that things were clear - lifting one arm to twirl Magnus in a very slow circle under it, replacing his other hand's location to Magnus' silken waist. He was wearing deep royal blue tonight. Alec’s favorite.

"I can always make you."

Gently, as if handling a fragile tea cup, Alec pulled him in, taking a step back and then another, until they had some free space in each direction. Magnus pushed his face against the skin of Alec’s neck, warm and private, closed his eyes and murmured a soft word. The lights dimmed gradually, until the brightest of them were the lit candles on the table, and the city lights outside, a dark heaven full of magical stars, right there on the ground.  

The sway was careful until it turned fluid, until Alec’s shoulders relaxed completely, and all his focus lay not in the way he shuffled his feet, but in the hand he had pressed to the small of Magnus' back, and his exhales, deep like heart beat rhythm against Magnus' ear.  

Slowly, they turned and turned, until Alec, with usual honesty, kissed words against Magnus' skin. He was still reusing movie lines; Magnus would have laughed if he were not endlessly far gone, much too charmed. 

"I'm not scared of this, Magnus. I'm not scared of being with you. Don't-" 

He paused there, suddenly small in Magnus' reach. A man so young, and yet, so old with what he held in his hands. Heavy is the head, indeed.  
Magnus waited for more, because it felt like there was more, and Alec pulled back to see his face, then, his own a beautifully candle-lit shadow, warm cheeks, warm glittering eyes, a mouth bitten pink. Angelic even in smoothest darkness. How did Magnus ever _deserve_ -

"Don't be afraid of being with me. We will figure something out, we will think of something, anything, just don't. Don't be scared of being with me." 

In the end, Magnus didn't remember if he ever answered anything to honor that request.  
Was he scared? He knew he was, but what scared him about Alec was not loving him, no. How far, far past that he had already gone.  
It was how much, how desperately, how endlessly, he loved. It didn't mean a thing that Alec could never love him back like this, with a dozen human lives lived, with a heart that had loved and loved and loved and yet never quite as substantially, quite as lethal in its intensity as this.  
It didn't mean a thing. As much as Alec was willing to give, it would always be enough.

And Magnus was not scared to be hurt.

It would matter one day, maybe, in a future too distant to care about now. 

Nothing mattered, now, but this.

Magnus' hand, warm from Alec’s shoulder and warm by itself, lay down on Alec’s neck, thumb drawing a generous line along his jaw, a smile, as if by magic, following in its wake.

This time, Magnus' lashes fluttered shut first. A strong heart beat passed like an eternity, accentuated by a harmony flowing like a silken ribbon, delicate as a butterfly's wings. Magnus thought of summer, in that moment before Alec kissed him, and of spring. And of all the things he would revisit, with him. Only with him.

For as long as he could have him, he would.

**Author's Note:**

> yall can argue all you want, but the twilight soundtrack was a blessing in disguise  
> ____
> 
> Also honestly like don't ask me where the whole TWILIGHT MOVIE THING came from, all I WANTED from this was malec slow dancing to Clair de lune in the fucking kitchen ??????? LIKE. who am I and why did I do any of this, we might never know


End file.
